Athena's Child (The Grecian Women Trilogy)

by Hannah M. Lynn

Medusa grew from monsters, but she was not born of them.

These are not men. They are snakes, serpents trying to find the freshest eggs. And when they do find them, they crack them open, devour their insides, and leave nothing more than hollow shells.

Women hold knives more often in the day than men ever do, yet it is not women who stab their husbands to death when they fear adultery. Women gather in clusters with friendships stronger than steel, yet it is not women who beat their husbands to the ground in gangs when a hint of wrong-doing echoes in the air. It is not women who require lover after lover, then make promises of love which they recant when darker hair and deeper eyes are cast in our direction. Time and time again, we are called out as the emotional ones, the irrational ones. Women don’t get drunk like men and hurl insults at strangers or throw rocks in protests. Women use words and reason where men use fists and force. So why are we always second? Why is that my goddess? Why are we always second?’